


Toys for Every Girl and Boy

by Drag0nst0rm



Series: Winter Wonderland [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus is named Regulus instead, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, F/M, Gen, Harry Potter Next Generation, Marauders' Era, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Referenced Teddy/Victoire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-17 21:10:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13085445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag0nst0rm/pseuds/Drag0nst0rm
Summary: Remus needs a job that'll take a werewolf, Sirius needs a job that'll tick off his parents, and Peter just needs a job, period. Enter James with a fantastic idea.They'll start a toy store.This changes more than you might think.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Harry Potter.

Career advice had always been something of a sticking point for the Marauders. James had parents who would support anything he did, Sirius's parents would support nothing he did, and Remus's parental situation was never really his biggest issue. Peter, unlike James, needed to work, but he preferred to stick with the others instead of branching out on his own.

The solution, James decided, was self-employment. He and Sirius could provide the start-up funds, and they would start a business in Diagon Alley.

Peter was enthusiastically in favor of the idea. Remus was a bit more skeptical.

"What sort of business?"

Sirius leaned back in his chair, grinning. "Why, Moony, I'm surprised at you. Evans used to call us children, didn't she? We'll start a toy shop."

James latched onto the idea. "I like it."

Moony's eyes had gone calculating. "We've got about a year left. It'd be a lot of work."

"Yeah, because we've never done that before, have we, _Prongs_?" Sirius said pointedly.

"It'll be a novel experience," James said solemnly.

Remus's lips twitched, but he pressed on. "Are you sure you want to start a business in the middle of a war?"

"We could put defensive spells on the toys," James suggested.

Sirius nodded approvingly. "Protect the little tykes. I like it."

And it would ensure Remus got a job, but he wasn't stupid enough to say that.

 

The Marauders gleamed in golden letters above the display in the shop windows. Trading cards with dueling statistics illustrated by James enacted a battle midair, complete with snappy banter. A stuffed wolf and dog played at fighting under a sign that advertised the defensive spells on them, courtesy of Sirius. A Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean Sorter (Tell Your Earwax from your Toffee!) sorted piles into "safe" and "unsafe" as per Remus's invention. A hundred other toys crowded the shelves, all carefully accounted for by the ledger Peter carefully kept.

It was, in James's mind, perfect. The crowning moment was when he discovered that in nine months, they were going to have a test subject.

"Our baby is not a test subject!"

"But think of how much fun she'll have! Or he."

Lily groaned, but she was also smiling.

 

On Halloween night when Remus went under, the shop was owned by four people with four equal shares.

When he woke up, James's share had been passed down to Harry, Sirius still owned his but would be unable to work for it, and Peter's share had gone to his mother. She didn't want it.

Remus was now one third owner of a shop that only he was left to run.

He focused on that part because the rest would drive him mad.

 

"Ah, Mrs. Dursley. May I come in?"

Petunia blinked at him, but Remus remembered LIly's rants all too well. He was dressed in a proper Muggle suit.

"I'm Remus Lupin," he explained. "I've come about your nephew's inheritance."

"Inheritance?" she said blankly. "My - nephew?" She glanced around the street nervously. "Well, come in quickly, then, before anyone sees you."

He stepped inside. "How is Harry?"

"He's fine," she said sharply. "Now what's this about an inheritance?"

"Harry's inherited his father's share of the business," Lupin explained. "Legally speaking, that means I'm required to give him monthly updates as to how it's doing. Naturally, as his guardian, you're welcome to listen and - "

"Monthly?" she squawked. "You're going to be coming monthly? Couldn't you just send a letter?"

He could, but this was the only way he'd get to see Harry.

"If you'd prefer to come by the shop . . . "

"No!" She chewed her lip furiously. "He's in there," she said, jerking her head towards the living room. "I'm far too busy to deal with this, so you'll have to handle him on your own."

"Delightful woman," he murmured to himself as she walked away. He hurried into the living room where Harry sat sniffling in a playpen. He brightened immediately when he saw his visitor.

"Unca Moony!" 

Lupin lifted him out of the playpen and held him tight. Harry snuggled closer.

"Hello, Harry. I brought some toys for you to try out."

 

At this point, Remus was living for Harry and for the shop. Unfortunately, he needed help with both.

Hiring shop assistants who didn't know his secret was nerve-racking. Talking to Dumbledore was unexpectedly frustrating.

"They're not treating him right."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled benignly. "Harry will be safe there."

Legally speaking, Remus couldn't do much without more than the word of a werewolf to go on. So he gave Harry a small stuffed fawn and told him to hold onto it whenever he got scared. It was loaded with every defensive spell he could think of.

When he next saw Harry, there wasn't a mark on him, but the toy had been thrown out.

 

Two things happened as Harry got older. One was that the Wolfsbane Potion was invented.

That led to the second thing, which started when the Dursleys were going on holiday and were reluctant to take Harry along. Remus immediately volunteered to look out for him, even without knowing the dates.

Naturally, with his luck, the last night of the trip was a full moon.

Before, he would have had to back out despite what that would do to Harry, but the shop was a resounding success. He was able to afford and had been using the potion. Harry would understand if he was tired.

He kept him the whole week. After that, he became the go to watcher for Harry, an arrangement that suited everyone perfectly.

 

"Lizzy, have you ever noticed how the boss is always gone when there's a full moon?"

"Do you like your job?"

"Er, yes?"

"Good. No, I haven't noticed anything. And you haven't either."

 

When the first Hogwarts letter arrived, Harry knew full well what it was. He stuck it into the band of his jeans and waited until he was in his bedroom to open it.

Excitement bubbled up in him. Uncle Remus had said this was coming, but he hadn't quite dared hope . . .

It would mean he couldn't see his uncle as often, but he was sure he would get letters from him, and maybe he could even stay the holidays with him in the apartment over his shop.

This was going to be _great._

 

Hogwarts had sent Hagrid to take him to Dragon Alley, apparently unaware that Harry could have just used one of his visits with Uncle Remus to do the shopping.

That was alright, though, that just meant he got to surprise him, and Uncle Remus needed more good surprises in his life.

Harry wound his way through the crowded shop to the workshop in the back. "Uncle Remus?"

The man looked up from a doll of Morgan le Fay he was carefully painting. A wide smile broke across his face. "Harry! Come in. I've got your birthday present."

Uncle Remus's presents were always far superior to the Dursleys, even if Harry had to hide them. This one, a beautifully painted box of art supplies, was no exception.

"I thought maybe you could use these to stay in practice at school. I know how much you enjoy it, and you've gotten very good."

Harry grinned at him. "Thanks. Not quite as good as Dad, though. I've still got a ways to go to make him proud."

"Oh, Harry." Uncle Remus hugged him tightly. "I'm quite sure you already have."

 

Dear Headmaster,

I know schools of magic will always have a certain inherent danger. I don't blame you for the troll incident or for Harry's near injuries in Quidditch. 

But what on _earth_ were you thinking, encouraging him to go after the stone?

Sincerely, 

Remus Lupin

P.S. I also have growing concerns about your hiring practices.

 

Dear Headmaster,

Snape's bullying of the students is concerning. Quirrell's possession was - Frankly, I don't have words for that.

But Lockhart? A criminal fraud who tried to obliviate two of the students? 

I've always been grateful to you, and I always will be, but that gratitude does not extend to being silent while you put students at risk.

Sincerely,

Remus Lupin

 

Dear Headmaster,

Complaining about your Defense Against the Dark Arts professors does not constitute writing an application. In case you haven't noticed, I already have a job.

Very sincerely,

Remus Lupin

 

When Harry had fled from the incident with Aunt Marge, he had known just where to run to. He just hadn't expected Uncle Remus to be so worried.

"Promise me you'll be careful, Harry," he said hoarsely, gripping Harry's arms tightly.

"Okay," he said, bewildered. "What's going on?"

Uncle Remus looked very pale. "There are some things you need to know about Sirius Black."

 

When Sirius remained on the loose and Harry reported seeing a dog that might be Padfoot, Remus knew he could wait no longer. He went to the castle to tell Dumbledore the truth.

He was sidetracked by the sight of Harry and Hermione slipping off the cloak and entering the tree.

From there, things went as they were fated to do.

 

A black dog slipped in the back door of the shop and padded into the workshop before turning into a man.

"It's been a long time," Sirius said hoarsely, looking around. He was drawn to a stack of trading cards with designs he didn't recognize. 

"Harry drew those," Remus said quietly.

"He's good."

"Very good," Remus agreed. "Give it a year, and he'll be able to do James's old job."

The old grief, still raw, flashed across Sirius's face. "I'm going abroad," he said abruptly. "I need to draw the dementors away from Harry." He tried to smile. "I'll write. Maybe I can send you some ideas."

"I could use them." It had always been James and Sirius who came up with the flashy ideas. "We will keep a lawyer for the shop. I'll have him look into your case."

Hope warred with caution. "It's a risk," he warned. "If people find out . . . "

"Because I've never kept a secret before, _Padfoot,_ " he said dryly.

Sirius grinned. Not quite his old, boyish grin, but close enough. "See you soon, then, Moony."

Remus smiled. "See you soon."

 

Dear Headmaster,

You had better pray Harry survives this tournament of yours.

Sincerely,

Remus Lupin

 

Dear Headmaster,

As a newly acquitted man, I will be taking custody of my godson whether you like it or not. I don't care _what_ your objections are.

Very sincerely,

Sirius Black

 

 **Daily Prophet. 12 June.**

" . . . the young star seems to be going the way of Harry Potter, desperately clutching at fame . . . "

**Daily Prophet. 18 June.**

" . . . the suspicious death of one contestant, perhaps at the hands of a famous other . . . "

 

Dear Daily Prophet,

We are ready and willing to sue for libel.

Very sincerely,

Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin

 

**Daily Prophet. 25 June.**

"We would like to issue a public retraction and apology . . . "

 

Dear Harry,

Umbridge. They hired _Umbridge?_ That little toad of a -

This is Remus now. Sirius is very, uh, passionate on the subject. She was rather a pain at the trial, you'll remember, and they have opposing views on werewolf rights.

Are you sure you're okay, Harry? I swear I could smell a bit of blood on your last letter.

You know you can tell us anything, right?

\- Moony and Padfoot

 

Dear Moony and Padfoot,

Promise you won't overreact?

\- Harry

 

"I'm going to kill her."

"Sirius, I think that's what Harry meant by overreacting."

"I'm getting her sent to Azkaban."

"Better. But for that, we're going to need proof."

 

**Official Complaint Form ******

********

**Filed:** 12 November

********

**Against:** Hogwarts High Inquisitor Dolores Umbridge

********

 

********

**Daily Prophet. 31 October.**

********

**TOY STORE OWNER REVEALED AS WEREWOLF**

********

**Are Your Children Safe?**

********

"No, they're not safe!" Sirius growled, pacing furiously in the workshop. "Voldemort's loose, and that woman's torturing them!"

********

Harry's face was pinched miserably in the connected mirror they'd sent him. "I'm sorry," he blurted out. "Umbridge all but said the Ministry leaked it because of the complain over my stupid hand - "

********

"Harry, none of this is your fault." Remus's face might be pale, but his voice was calm. "I made my own choices, and I don't regret them. I'll resign, naturally - "

********

Sirius whirled on him. "Oh, no, you won't."

********

"No one will want to buy from a werewolf."

********

"So what? We've got enough to keep this thing running for the rest of our lives without ever selling another toy."

********

"What would be the point?" Remus asked wearily.

********

"Spite," Sirius said flatly. "Which I assure you, I have plenty of."

********

Harry nodded. "We can't let her win."

********

"Exactly." Sirius resumed pacing. "Which is why we're not just going to stay open, we're going to have the best Christmas sales season we've ever had. Harry, get the Weasley twins. I've got a plan."

********

 

********

Ella Plumm was the newest reporter for the Prophet's business section which meant she got the worst assignments. She certainly wasn't excepting to get get to pursue the toy shop scandal.

********

Right up until she got the note.

********

 

********

Dear Miss Plumm,

********

As you know, our store has so far declined comment on recent events. We have been so impressed by your work, however, that we have decided that we are willing to offer you an exclusive interview. Say, two o'clock tomorrow?

********

\- The Marauders

********

 

********

**The Daily Prophet. 2 December.**

********

From the moment the charming Mr. Black meets me at the door for a tour of his shop, this interview is nothing like what I expected.

********

He talks easily and confidently about the precautions Mr. Lupin takes - all full moons off and copious amounts of Wolfsbane potion - but he seems almost bored by the topic.

********

"It's just part of life," he explains with a shrug. "But honestly, I think Moony's health problems are the least interesting news from the shop right now. Let me show you what we've been working on."

********

He leads me back into the workshop where I immediately encounter a wonderland. Stunning dueling cards designed by the Boy-Who-Lived himself dance in the air. Dolls the morph from animal to human and back transform at a word from their creator.

********

And in the center of the workspace, a dollhouse unlike any other: a replica of Hogwarts, complete with moving staircases, hidden doors, and filmy replicas of ghosts.

********

Mr. Lupin looks up from this masterpiece as we enter. He greets us with a tired smile. "The replication charm we modified seems to be holding. It's ready to hit the shelves."

********

The same, I learn, is true of everything back there. The Christmas lineup looks spectacular, and the treats they have laid out only complete the impression.

********

Mr. Black grins boyishly when I point them out. "Now _that_ might be our biggest news of the season. You're looking at some of the fine products of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, who we are proud to announce our partnership with. We'll be expanding into Hogsmeade next year where our two newest partners will be running things. In the meantime, we're enthusiastic about adding their line of joke products to our store."

********

I have to admit, I'm feeling rather enthusiastic myself.

********

 

********

The goal of the aggressive advertising campaign Sirius insisted on was, as he saw it, to make the toys so irresistible that kids would badger their parents into buying them, werewolf or no werewolf. It seemed to be succeeding, but parents weren't the only ones in the store.

********

"Wotcher, Sirius! Is Remus here?"

********

Sirius grinned. "He's hiding in the back. Come on."

********

Tonks followed him into the workshop. Remus swallowed when he saw her. "Tonks."

********

"Yep." She stepped overly carefully around the dollhouses before perching on one of the chairs. "So that's your big secret, huh? The one that you wouldn't go out with me over until I knew?"

********

He closed his eyes. "Yes."

********

"Well, I know now," she prompted.

********

When Remus didn't say anything, Sirius stepped in. "That's your cue to ask the lady to supper, Moony." When Remus just continued to gape at both of them, Sirius sighed and turned apologetically to Tonks. "He'll see you at six."

********

 

********

"Sirius? Sirius, are you there?" Harry sounded frantic.

********

Sirius was there immediately. "What happened?" When he heard about the vision, he shot a look at Remus. "He's trying to lure Harry in."

********

"But if the Order was there instead . . . "

********

Sirius grinned fiercely. "Ambush."

********

 

********

"Ow."

********

"Sirius, stop being such a big baby. It's just a cut. It could have been a lot worse. Besides, they know Voldemort's out there now. I think that's worth a cut."

********

"And we got Umbridge fired," Harry pointed out. "That was worth it, wasn't it?"

********

Sirius grinned. "Absolutely worth it."

********


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, MegMarch1880!

The lights of the toy store continued to glow warmly even as the rest of the street went grey, both at Diagon Alley and the new Hogsmeade location. Nearly every toy now boasted defensive spells or concealment charms.

When the Ministry fell, some even left the store holding toys spelled with a backroom portkey charm, unregistered with the Ministry.

 

Sirius paced in the workshop. “Harry should be here by now.” He hadn’t been able to get to Harry in the chaos of the disastrous wedding, but he had seen him disapparate with his friends. “Even if they did a few jumps to throw off pursuit - “

“He might not be coming,” Remus said quietly from where he sat slumped against the table.

“This is the rendezvous,” Sirius insisted, refusing to consider any other possibilities.

Tonks, still going by the name despite her marriage, frowned at Remus. “Harry’s tough,” she said. “I’m sure he can get through whatever trouble he’s in.”

“He can,” Remus agreed. “He just might not come here when he does.”

Sirius stilled. “He told you something?”

“He didn’t have to. We’ve both known all summer that he was planning something, and we both know how reluctant he’s been to involve us since the Department of Mysteries.”

“I was _fine,_ ” Sirius growled. 

“You nearly weren’t. And if you hadn’t been, Harry would never have forgiven himself.”

“Protecting us isn’t his job!”

Remus smiled wearily. “I don’t disagree with you. I’m just saying - “

Glass shattered in the front room. All three whipped out their wands.

“Showtime,” Sirius whispered grimly.

The eyes of the half-completed toys glowed in response.

 

Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder exploded from the vents. If there was a crack of disapparation a room over, none of the Death Eaters noticed.

The only light in the darkness was row upon row of suddenly glowing eyes.

 

“ . . . and here on Potterwatch, we’re proud to have two new guests here to comment on events in Diagon Alley!”

“Silver? Really? Si-Snuffles came up with that, I assume. Regardless, I am happy to report that the shop remains intact despite three successive attacks, thanks to our defensive system.”

“Your _terrifying_ defensive system. I don’t think I’ll ever look at a teddy bear the same way again.”

“Our product descriptions _do_ promise to fight the monsters under the bed,” a new voice said.

“And at the door, apparently. Anything else to add, Snuffles?”

“Just one thing. Harry, if you’re listening to this, I _know_ you’ve got the mirror, and I _know_ you’re ignoring it. _Call me_. Or I’ll let our newest partners test out their latest products in your room.”

 

The Black family home was nigh impregnable, so that was where they rested between missions. Years of work had at last made it inhabitable, although nothing could make Kreacher’s cooking more appealing.

Which was why Sirius was in the kitchen frying eggs while Remus set the table when Tonks walked in, uncharacteristically uncertain, and said, “I’m pregnant.”

Remus dropped the plate he was holding. 

Sirius let out a whoop. “New product tester!”

“Sirius, no,” Remus tried to say.

Sirius was too busy beaming to care. “Sirius, _yes._ ”

 

“ . . . and we can get Kreacher to dig up the old nursery things - “ Sirius paused. “Where _is_ Kreacher?”

“Last time we had to ask that question, it ended badly,” Remus said. “Tonks?”

She shook her head. “I haven’t seen him either.”

Sirius grabbed his wand. “KREACHER!”

Kreacher appeared with a crack.

“Where have you been?” Sirius demanded.

“Master told us to obey the little brat, so Kreacher does, but is Master happy? No, never - “

Sirius blinked. “Harry summoned you? _Why?_ ”

Kreacher just kept muttering darkly.

“Kreacher,” Sirius warned.

“The brat wanted Master Regulus’s locket,” Kreacher said reluctantly. “He said he would destroy it, but did he do it? Kreacher doesn’t know, Kreacher didn’t see, Kreacher was called away by Master - “

“But why?” Tonks asked.

“Answer that,” Sirius ordered.

“The brat spoke of horcruxes,” Kreacher said. “Four still to find to destroy the Dark Lord. He said this was Master Regulus’s mission, and Kreacher wonders if he speaks right - “

“Reggie tried to destroy old snakeface?” Sirius asked incredulously.

_He got cold feet and tried to back out . . ._

“Kreacher, bring me to Harry. _Now._ ”

 

Harry was in the middle of a tent with Ron and Hermione, arguing what to do over the locket. All three fell silent when they saw Sirius. Harry gulped.

“Hello, Harry,” Sirius said with deceptive calm.

Harry’s face had gone pale but determined. “Hi, Sirius.”

“Kreacher brought some interesting news. I thought maybe you could fill in the rest.”

Harry set his jaw. He looked painfully like James on a stubborn streak. “Dumbledore said - “

“I don’t give a flying Knut,” Sirius interrupted. “Particularly if it involved not telling any other adults what was going on.”

“He could probably help, mate,” Ron said after a moment of considering silence.

“Kreacher can tell him most of it anyway,” Hermione pointed out. “Hello again, Kreacher.”

“Filthy little - “

“That’s enough, Kreacher,” Sirius said pleasantly. “Ready whenever you are, Harry.”

Harry gave in.

 

Three Horcruxes and uncounted Order missions to rescue muggleborns and attack Death Eaters later, the Battle of Hogwarts began.

Wormtail was finally dead. Sirius’s satisfaction with this state of affairs was greatly muted by the fact that they’d lost Fred too.

He’d been even younger than James.

This breather in the battle was giving him far too much time to think.

“I had him,” Tonks snapped in a shaking voice. “I had him, why would you - “

“There was another one coming in behind you,” Remus said. His voice was strained with pain. Sirius wished Madam Pomfrey would hurry up.

“If you lose the eye, I’m calling you Mad-Eye Moony,” he warned, striving for lightness. He was still scanning the doorway.

Ron and Hermione were coming in.

Harry wasn’t with them.

He took off running. “Where is he?” he shouted. Several heads turned, but he ignored them. He was only focused on two.

Ron’s gaze was locked on his brother’s body. It was Hermione who answered.

“He went to put Snape’s memories in the Penseive. He promised not to do anything stupid - “

Sirius was already gone.

 

He was too late to do anything but watch for himself and hope for a clue. He emerged cursing Snape, cursing Dumbledore, and cursing his own stupidity.

So that was why Dumbledore hadn’t wanted him to know. Couldn’t have Sirius trying to stop his precious _human sacrifice -_

Harry had the cloak. The Map. There was no chance of Sirius finding him if he didn’t want to be found. Even his dog form would have little luck in the chaotic scents of the castle.

Sirius pushed himself to his feet and ran, stumbling, out the door. “Harry? Harry! HARRY!”

McGonagall caught him just outside the Great Hall. “Mr. Black, what on earth are you doing?”

Sirius looked at her with wild eyes. “Harry’s gone. I have to go after him. I have to - “ He stumbled again, and he at last realized that not all the blood on his robes was from Remus.

Some was his own.

That was the last thing he realized for awhile.

 

He woke up in time to stand with the others. To see - to see -

But Harry lived, and Voldemort fell, and Sirius got to cut old Tom’s face open before he kicked it. That was something.

“I am not going to let you out of my sight for the next ten years,” Sirius told him after the battle before pulling him into a bonecrushing hug. “You took ten years off my life, kid.”

“Sorry,” Harry said into his robes.

“You don’t sound very sorry,” he grumbled, but Remus had pulled through, minus one eye, and Tonks was fine, and Harry was here, so maybe it would be alright.

 

The Marauders reopening saw twin weasels standing proud where once a rat had crouched. One was fiery red. The other was ghostly white.

A younger stag stood beside James’s. A lightning bolt marked its head. In similar fashion, a wolf pup had joined Remus’s wolf.

A wolf that now had a skull and crossbones eyepatch.

“Really, Sirius?” Remus sighed, but his lips were twitching.

“I like it,” Harry said. “What do you think, George?”

“I’m still getting over the novelty of not being blamed for once.”

Sirius ignored all of them. “Ready?”

“Ready,” the others confirmed and raised their wands.

“We solemnly swear that we’re up to no good!”

The lights flickered on. The door swung open.

And on the roof above, the animals almost seemed to smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter of this for the night, so make sure you didn't miss the last one!

“So it’s going to be another boy,” Harry said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Any ideas for names?”

“Pigwidgeon,” Ginny called from the bathroom.

“We are not naming one of our children after Ron’s owl,” Harry said firmly. Particularly when that owl was named Pigwidgeon.

Ginny was grinning as she walked into the bedroom, dragging a brush through her tangle of red hair. “Well, if you want to go for something more traditional, Sirius said your father was very fond of Elvendork.”

“I was hoping to help our kids _avoid_ childhood trauma,” Harry said wryly. 

“Then we’re back to you,” Ginny said brightly. “Unless we’re going to be stealing names again.”

Harry, who had a keen idea of what kind of names would draw the Dudleys of the world but few ideas of alternatives, accepted this plan as the best they were likely to get. “What did you have in mind?”

“Albus Severus,” Ginny said.

Harry choked. “Sirius would kill us.”

Ginny’s admirably straight face cracked, and she threw herself on to the bed with a laugh. “Yes, but we should tell him that’s what the name’s going to be and then reveal our actual name for him once he’s stopped spluttering.”

“Or has a heart attack.”

“True . . . Tom, then?”

Now Harry was the one spluttering.

“He would have hated it,” Ginny pointed out enticingly.

 _”No,”_ Harry managed to say. “I still have nightmares about finding that out.”

“But think of the name reveal! We could do it up in big, burning letters. The _Prophet_ would love it.”

“Harry Potter: Rise of the New Dark Lord?” he predicted.

“It’d be fun.”

“Remus, maybe?” Harry suggested in counterpoint. “Since we did James Sirius?”

Ginny hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe as a middle name . . . Although since Remus actually has children, if he’d wanted his name reused, he could have done it.”

Kreacher’s soft footsteps went past on the stairs. The noise was comforting instead of menacing as it once would have been.

“What about Regulus?” Harry suggested with a yawn. “He deserves to be remembered.”

“Regulus Potter,” Ginny said thoughtfully. “We’d still need a middle name. Unless that is the middle name?” She was yawning too now.

“It can wait,” Harry reminded her. “We’ve got time.”

“Ignatius,” she murmured. “Regulus Ignatius Potter.”

“We are not letting our son’s initials be R.I.P.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy wasn't sure at what point he'd become a job councillor to the Potter kids, but it was too late to worry about it now.

Teddy had ducked into the living room to get away from the pre-dinner chaos in the kitchen. He was immediately ambushed with pages of brightly colored and nearly totally unidentifiable scribbles that James proudly handed to him from where the boy was sprawled out on the floor.

This was not the first time something like this had happened. Teddy immediately crouched down in front of James while he looked over the pictures. “Cool! What are these?”

James’s gap toothed grin was irresistible. “Toys,” he said. “I’m going to make ‘em all someday.” He launched into an excited explanation of his ideas, jabbing a small finger at each blob of color in turn. Gradually, though, his excitement faded and his shoulders slumped. “ . . . only I can’t draw ‘em right,” he mumbled, biting his lip. “Not like Dad does. I don’t think I’ll ever draw as good as Dad does.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” Teddy said immediately. “You just need more practice, that’s all.”

“Reggie can draw as good as me,” James said in disgust. “And he’s just a baby.”

“He’s only two years younger than you,” Teddy corrected, but it was true that at James’s age that two years seemed like forever. “Anyway, who cares if you can draw if you’re coming up with great ideas like this?”

James brightened somewhat. “That’s true,” he said. “Someone else can take over the drawing if Dad ever gets sick of it.” Another idea occurred to him, and he brightened even more. “You can draw, can’t you?”

Teddy thought of the sketches of Victoire’s face filling the margins of his notes. He was pretty sure his hair turned as red as a Weasley’s. “Um, yes,” he coughed. “Yes, I can.”

 

“Teddy?”

Teddy glanced up from where he was sketching out a design for the new toy catapults in the workshop at the back of the shop. “What’s up?”

Regulus was fidgeting nervously beside his desk. “What if . . . What if I don’t want to work here when I grow up?”

Teddy laid his pencil down carefully, eyebrows pinching together. “Then I’m sure you’ll be great at whatever you do decide to do. No one’s going to try to make you work here, you know.”

“But it’s the family business,” Regulus said miserably. “You work here, and Dad works here, and it’s all James and Fred talk about doing . . . “

“Your mom doesn’t work here,” Teddy pointed out. “She’s a reporter. And Fred’s mom coaches Quidditch, and the rest of the Weasleys are all over the place. You can do whatever you want to do, Regulus.”

Regulus chewed on his lower lip, a bad habit Teddy was pretty sure he’d picked up from James. “You don’t think Dad’ll be disappointed?”

Fortunately or unfortunately, Harry chose that moment to finish setting up the new display in the store and walk back into the workshop. “Is anyone dead?” he asked.

Regulus jumped. “What? No!”

“Or in Azkaban?”

“No!”

“Then I’m not disappointed.” He paused. “ . . . Possibly not even if someone was, depending on who. What happened?”

“Uncle Charlie showed me some dragon eggs when we went to visit him,” Regulus said. His gaze was firmly locked on Harry’s shoes.

Harry winced. “And you . . . stole one?”

Teddy had to shove a fist over his mouth to keep from laughing at the horrified expression on Regulus’s face.

“No!”

Harry’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Oh, good. Baby dragons are terrible. I still wouldn’t have been disappointed,” he tacked on hastily. “Since it would have been rather hypocritical of me. But I’m very glad you didn’t.”

Regulus was now gazing at his father with the wide eyed gaze of someone who was realizing that with all the stories he’d heard about his father’s childhood, he still hadn’t heard nearly half of it.

Harry scratched the back of his neck somewhat sheepishly. “So, uh. What actually happened?”

“IthinkIwannaworkwithdragons,” Regulus blurted out.

Harry blinked. “Come again?”

Regulus shot Teddy a panicked look. Teddy gave him an encouraging nod.

Regulus took a deep, fortifying breath. “I think I want to work with dragons. And I know I’ve still got lots of time to change my mind, and I shouldn’t set my heart on anything yet, but this is the first time I’ve thought about doing anything other than working here, and I know it might not be what you wanted - “

“I think that’s great,” Harry interrupted. “Have you talked to Charlie about what classes you should sign up for?”

Regulus gaped at him. “You’re not mad?”

Harry froze for a split second, something that Teddy had never seen him do in the rare instances there was real danger, but that as Teddy had grown older he had grown to suspect Harry did whenever he was afraid he had missed something obvious as a parent.

“Oh. Well, it is rather dangerous, I suppose,” Harry said helplessly. “But it’s not as if you’re saying you want to run off and work with them right now without getting any proper training . . . “

The truth of his father’s complete lack of disappointment finally seemed to soak in for Regulus. He lurched forward to wrap his arms around Harry in a tight hug. “You’re the best, Dad,” he mumbled into his shirt before disappearing into the shop with a flush of adolescent embarrassment.

Harry stayed right where he was with his hands still half raised from the hug. “Am I not supposed to be okay with him working with dragons?”

Teddy shrugged cheerfully. “My parents would have been fine with it,” he offered. “I think he was just worried you wanted him to follow in your footsteps. Family business and all that.”

“With all the people the Weasleys are related to, I’m not sure there’s any business in the Wizarding World this family _isn’t_ in,” Harry said dryly.

“That’s what _I_ said!”

 

“Do you ever think about the fact that we haven’t expanded since the Hogsmeade store opened and that while we offer international shipping, the cost is ridiculously prohibitive?”

Teddy cracked one eye open, ran that sentence through his head three times to let it soak in, and finally accepted that all hope of more sleep was lost with a groan. He forced his head up from where it had been cushioned by his arms in the middle of a workshop table filled with wadded up papers and a few treasured final designs. “Not at three in the morning, I don’t. Not without coffee at least.”

“It’s seven,” Lily informed him. “But here.” She thrust a thermos at him.

He took it gratefully and drained half of it in one long gulp. The flavor finally hit just as he swallowed. “That tastes like Victoire’s.”

“It is,” Lily informed him. “I went looking for you at your house first. She wanted me to tell you that she understands Christmas is the busy season for you, but that if you don’t sleep in a real bed tonight, she’s going to drag you home herself.”

Teddy blinked, consumed more coffee, and shrugged. “Fair. Although in my defense, I would have gone home last night if - “

“If you hadn’t gotten hit with a wonderful idea that couldn’t possibly wait,” Lily finished for him. “I know.”

“If Fred hadn’t,” Teddy corrected. “I just had to stick around to sketch it out for him. You know his handwriting’s like chicken scratch.” Brilliant with the mechanics of things, but hopeless at sketching out the plans for them.

“Fred’s here?” Lily asked, startled.

The mound of costumes filling up one corner shifted and moaned. A dark head slowly peeked out from beneath a blanket of medieval witches’ skirts. “Is it morning?”

“So Lily claims,” Teddy said, fending off a yawn with another swig of coffee. 

Fred squinted at Lily suspiciously.

“I don’t need you, you can go back to sleep.”

“Oh, good.” He disappeared back into his nest of fake velvet.

“Why does he get to go back to sleep?”

Teddy was aware that he was whining and that as a grown man with a child of his own on the way, he should probably stop. He just couldn’t quite bring himself to.

“Because he doesn’t follow the papers,” Lily said briskly. “You do, which means that you know about the renegotiated trade agreement with America. It’s created a loophole that would make opening a store there more lucrative than it’s ever been before, and once we get a foothold - “

Teddy raised his hand. When that didn’t get her attention, he started flashing his hair in a quick succession of neon colors.

Lily ground to a stop. “Yes?”

“Why are you bringing this to me? Isn’t this something for the old crowd?”

The old crowd was Uncle Sirius, Harry, George, and his own father. They were the ones currently holding shares in the store instead of just getting paid a generous salary.

A rare moment of vulnerability flickered across Lily’s face as she deflated. “Yes,” she admitted. “I just . . . wanted to try the pitch on you first. To make sure it didn’t sound stupid.”

To make sure I didn’t sound stupid was pretty clearly implied.

Teddy blinked. “Of course it won’t sound stupid,” he said. “If you haven’t already researched and rehearsed this six ways to Sunday, I’m a niffler’s cousin. You’ll do great.”

Lily relaxed, just a bit. “Can I practice it anyway?” she asked. “I brought more coffee.” She pulled the offered thermos out of a purse that looked much too small to hold it.

“You are a stunningly wonderful person,” Teddy said with heartfelt sincerity as he snatched it up. “Fire away."

**Author's Note:**

> I considered extending this. I've got this really clear vision of kids being protected from Death Eaters thanks to their toys and of the Death Eaters attacking the toy store in an attempt to take down the Marauders and being absolutely CREAMED by the toys that come to life as soon as they enter the door.
> 
> But I'm writing these on a schedule, and I didn't have time to make it much longer.
> 
> On the small changes in the fic: Harry has a bedroom already because with Lupin dropping in, the Dursleys didn't dare do otherwise. Tonks doesn't know about Lupin's "furry little problem" before because I figure that the reason she knew the first time was that Snape's big secret drop got around. That never happened here.
> 
> I decided James could draw on the admittedly slim evidence of him drawing a snitch with Lily's initials on it in OotP.


End file.
